


Breaking the Rules / Saving Melinda May

by Axolotl7



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Epic Friendship, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Rescue Mission, Team as Family, avengers to the rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 05:36:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8237917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Axolotl7/pseuds/Axolotl7
Summary: A little fic slotted in between Episodes 4x02 and 4x03.Phil's not normally a fan of breaking the rules... but he's not waiting around when Melinda May needs rescuing and neither are the rest of the Avengers.





	

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> Caution to readers as this has been written in one long drivel straight online and has not been beta'd so may well be full of mistakes!!!

Breaking the Rules / Saving Melinda May

 

**Daisy**

"They know that I am your contact." 

Before Elena's even finished the sentence, Daisy's on the run. _They know_. She's three steps away by the third word, heading for the (hopefully) deserted alley, planning her escape from whatever plan they have in place to trap her this time. She can't afford to let Shield take her back. A part of her says that they'll lock her up, contain her somehow, that she's dangerous. The much larger part of her says that's ridiculous; that her team would never let that happen. Are they even still her team? That much bigger part still says she's dangerous, that it's dangerous for them if she's around, says she can't go back because she wants _so much_ to go back and that she'll never be able to leave a second time. Coulson will say something heart-wrenching, Fitzsimmons will give her the puppy dog eyes, May... oh god, May will just look at her and everything will - no. Just no. She won't let them take her. She won't let herself be a danger to anyone else she cares about. Not again.

"Daisy, wait!" Elena is behind her somehow too swiftly- oh yeah. Of course she is. Idiot. Should have taken off already. "Only Coulson and Mack know I'm meeting with you. Not Shield. They haven't told Shield!" She has to concentrate to hear the words over the rush of air as she propels herself upwards and away. Haven't told Shield, yeah right. Like that's the problem anyway. If Coulson and Mack find her, catch her, god forbid talk to her- "They need your help!" - she's no help to anyone. She's a danger. The foster parents had it right; she is bad. Everyone around her dies. Everyone who loves her. "AGENT MAY IS DYING!"

Her flight falters immediately. Shock dropping her more than twenty meters at break neck speed and she's suddenly a remarkable understanding of how that phrase came to be. She shakes her head trying to dispel the fearful thoughts, control the rapid surge of adrenaline as the ground becomes that much closer, flexes her fingers closed and back open, repeatedly. Concentrates, control her breathing, control the emotion and let it pass. Seconds. Relax and breath. Repeat. Then focus.

Her powers re-engage well before she's any rational need to fear the ground striking her but the breathing routine is May's, it's May's voice in her head that she hears, that she needs to regain control even now when she's not seen the woman in six months. _May's dying._ The thought is a stabbing pain through her heart. Is May another victim of her curse? If she'd never gone to Shield, never met May, would she be safe? Her mother would be. Trip. Andrew. Lin-Lincoln. So many names. So many deaths she's responsible for. Must she add May to the list of damnation as well?

"He didn't say that, Daisy," Elena's voice is apologetic, subdued, and far too close to her now she's descended so far. It takes a while for the quiet words to sink in through the panic that had struck her at even the prospect of May's death. "Coulson said to tell you: "He needs your help. Agent May is in trouble." No, it was: " _Melinda_ is in trouble." He made sure to emphasise that it was "Melinda" needing your help."

She lets her feet thud almost silently to the ground. May's not dying. _Melinda_ needs help. A personal request. Not an order. Not Shield. Melinda May needs help. There's not even a decision to be made here.

"Tell me where he needs me to be."

 

x

 

**Tony**

"There's a message incoming over the IRC, Mr Stark."

"Ignore it. I'm not taking messages today," is his short if slightly slurred response as he takes another sip from the chokingly rich whisky that continues to roll from the bottle to his oblivion seeking lips. This bottle should have been empty by now - oh, no wait - that's the one over there that's rolled in to the leg of the couch that he was trying to empty. Huh. This one's near empty too.

"I am encountering difficulty in repressing the -" an upsettingly electrical failure type noise takes over his speakers making him wince in pain. Seems like he's going to have to do something about that. 

Later.

He takes another slurp.

Much later. 

"Tony," the voice alone wakes his body bolt upright. The voice of a dead man. "I'm sorry for the way I'm breaking this to you." His mind is playing tricks on him, that's what this is. He raises the bottle up to his eye line, glares at the remaining third in accusation. "I'm not dead and I need to get a message to Natasha." It's not like he hasn't hallucinated ghosts before when drinking. Although they are usually more focused upon him than getting messages to Natasha. In fact, come to think of it, he's almost insulted! If Agent's ghost wants to come haunt him while he's drinking then he should at least be focused on haunting HIM!

"Erm... okay, rude! Haunting someone only to ask about someone else. Where's the 'how are you Tony' 'I blame you for my death Tony' 'make sure you feel really badly about yourself Tony'..." he mumbles his way into what he can admit might be a little bit close to a rant.

There's a sigh over the comms channel - a far too Agent sounding sigh - that lapses him in to silence as he tries to think up more. Fuck but this whisky is some strong shit if even his brain is struggle to think its way through the haze.

"Tony, could you please concentrate because this is really important and... I need your help."

Well now, that's better. Needs _his_ help. Well of course he does.

"I have no quick way to contact the others. You have a phone in your possession. A phone, I understand, with a very important number on it. Please Tony. If you do nothing else ever, I need you to make that call." Make that call, oh that's all is it? He's never touching that phone and hell will freeze over before he makes that call! "The life of someone very important to me may hang in the balance. I can't lose her, Tony." The way Agent's voice breaks at the end sobers him up almost immediately. He couldn't lose her either, but he didn't know what he'd got until Pepper was gone.

He'd sworn to himself that he wasn't ever going to make that call. Sworn it to the heavens! Loudly and passionately! Sworn it to Rhody. Quietly by his bedside as he slept and recovered. 

But he'd still saved the phone for some reason. Pushed it furiously away from him across the desk but left it when it slid off, landed in an already open draw. He hadn't wanted to touch it to move it to the trash, that'd been his excuse when he'd shoved the drawer back shut and the phone out of sight.

If he's going to break that silence it's got to be the end of the world.

...Phil being alive again might just qualify.

 

x

 

**Steve**

The call from Tony was not what he was expecting. 

To be truthfully honest, he'd never expected Tony to speak to him ever again. He'd thought that bridge well and truly burned. Too much has happened between them, too many betrayals, scorned friendship and deep seated hurt to ever go back to the way they were before.

"This is the life model decoy of Tony Stark calling only to pass a message on from the recently deceased and apparently alive again Agent Agent to one double agent assassin code named The Incy Wincy Spider."

"Tony-"

"Life model decoy of -"

"Yes, I know." he pinches the bridge of his nose between his forefingers, feeling a Stark headache already oncoming.

"You see the real Tony Stark would never be making this call to the person who used to pretend to be a friend but-"

"What's the message, Tony?" he interrupts firmly. He can't stand to hear the castigations he throws at himself within the quiet of his own mind repeated out loud by someone he still respects, even if they can't be friends.

There's a moment's pause where he wonders if Tony will actually answer him or will hang up in disgust and never be heard from again.

"May captured: need Delta 34.0090° point 118.4974°. Full assault."

The phone clicks off before he can say anything to keep Tony on the line. Before he can even think to say "I'm sorry." He should have opened with that.

The doors slide open, breaking in to his thoughts just as Natasha saunters her way in to the room. "Eaves dropping on my calls?" he asks but it's not said with criticism, merely rueful acceptance. Of course she's programmed some sort of link in to this phone just in case he gets that call.

"Not at all," she replies with a smile that promises trouble if only he'd care to try her.

He spins immediately to the light rush of air signalling movement behind him, catches the sight of Clint landing in a crouch. He lets his eyes follow the route he has fallen, up, up and up some more to the furthest reaches of this tall room and the slightly glinting darkness that gives away the gap in the ceiling tiles from which Clint has obviously dropped.

"He was in the eaves, I was sitting comfortably in the common room with a comm unit," is Natasha's cocky continuance. Damn it but he loves these guys.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Clint says like it's just that simple. Just that simple to come out of hiding, traipse across the globe when they are wanted fugitives, risk death or worse - capture, all for a man that was happy to let them think he was dead an hour ago. All for a man that stood up against a God. A man that tried to save the world without any kind of super power. 

An ordinary man. 

A hero.

"Get packed."

 

x

 

**Elsewhere**

She walks simply up next to him, rests her arms casually atop the pier rail and looks out across the darkened bay like she hasn't just fought her way across eight time zones at his unexpected request. They don't meet often. Even when it's important, it's not safe. It's not worth the risk.

"You know he's going to break all the rules getting her back," she says in to the silence, because at some point one of them is going to have to break it before she gets pissed off by being urgently hauled out here and made to stand in silence simply because he's an ass that likes to wind her up! 

"He doesn't break rules." 

"Skip right on over them then." 

His silence is more of an answer than anything he said would be. 

"You know this will undermine everything we've done," she continues because of course he knows but one of them needs to say the words out loud. If they're not going to stop him... "The diplomatic fall out is going to be catastrophic. He'll shake the foundations of everything we've done so far."

That earns her a look, even if she can't see it behind the dark glasses he's wearing though it's night all round and no one here to see anything out of the ordinary. "Tell me that wasn't a Quake joke."

"That wasn't a joke of any kind," she replies. Not a single thing about this is funny. A part of her wants to fly back there and join him, fuck the rules and the plans and the god damned world behind it. She means... a lot. To all of them. The rest of her is more pragmatic than that. It's one woman. He cannot be allowed to turn everything upside down, to ruin everything that they have in place, make a mockery of all that they've done so far, all the sacrifices... 

"Maybe..." he doesn't often stall for time when he speaks. He seems to always have every word planned out in advance to fall intentioned for the best effect. "Maybe the world needs a little shaking up right now." There's a smile she can hear in his voice even if she'd never see it on his face. "Earth is in the midst of global panic, people are lashing out, we've been scrabbling to create stability... maybe we should have been pushing the other way, tip the whole thing over and start again."

And damned if that isn't the opposite of everything she thought he'd brought her here to hear. 

She'd been expecting and dreading the order to stop him. To let May fall if she will. A sacrifice for the greater good, a minor inconvenience to the bigger picture. To prioritise the future of the world no matter the personal cost. She'd been primed for that. She doesn't know what to think now.

She turns back to consider the beautiful darkness before them both.

Earth seems so uncomplicated from this simple railing. Just waves in the darkness lapping against a shore. Such details get lost when viewed from above. Such simple beauty gets lost when the whole planet seems to be at stake. The thought comes to her unbidden:

"You know... we'll be lucky if he keeps this _to_ Earth."

 

x

 

**Avengers**

They all scramble to grab on to something close by when the plane suddenly drops out from beneath them before catching itself and continuing to fly straight.

"Clint?" Natasha snaps the word out from where she's clinging to the back of a headrest simply because she does not like anything catching her by surprise. Or being outside of her control. Stuck in a plane in the skies with someone else at the helm, even if it's Clint, is so far outside of her control that she's already on edge. Having something hit the plane off course unexpectedly is NOT going to improve her mood.

"Unexpected visitor, I think," he shouts back from the helm over a shoulder. The clanking on the plane's ceiling, regular and rhythmic, heading to the aft drags a genuine smile to her face. She isn't one prone to foolish notions of hope but she'd _hoped_ anyway that the message would get through to him when so many others hadn't. She rushes more than her usual graceful movement would allow to palm the aft panel to lower the ramp. The plane blares out warnings she has to override at the mere thought of opening mid flight before it will comply with her demands. These birds are well built, they can handle the added pressures, but engineers are risk conscious children who'd never take a risk in their lives - 

"GREETINGS FRIENDS!" the booming voice accompanies an even more impressive reality as he lands heavily from the roof to the ramp, the whole plane jerked off course by the move before Clint corrects. His mere presence makes her laugh as she flings herself up him, arms and legs twining about his torso in the most complete hug she can manage. His own arms grip her even more tightly and despite the near inability to breath she'd not change him for anything. "I am most delighted to see you again Natasha Romanov," he says quietly just for her.

She releases him and walks him back in to the plane with slight embarrassment at allowing herself the overly enthusiastic greeting. Only Clint gives her a far too knowing look, then a smirk at her expense to lighten matters and she flips him off accordingly. He laughingly turns back to the helm and she refocuses on the others greeting Thor - as he has obviously continued on to subject Steve and then even Tony to an entirely over the top bout of hugging that appears almost more like wrestling when the men are trying to escape.

"Heimdall passed to me a message that tells of a miracle that mine ears did not believe could be true. My friends, is it true? Is the son of Coul alive within this place?" If it were anyone but Thor she would not believe the tears in his eyes are genuine as he all but begs them to confirm the truth.

"It's true, Thor. Coulson's alive," she tells him simply. She's not going to leave him hanging.

Fuck! She grabs again for the head rest of the chair to stay standing as another dangerously sudden thud from above drops the plane from its course. A shorter clipped stride resounds across the roof without concern for the buffeting of the winds outside. She reaches back instinctively, fingers settling lightly upon cool metal and drawing forth in readiness. She doesn't check the others, expects them likewise to be prepared. She's worked with them long enough now to know that they can all take care of themselves. Even Stark.

The form that drops without hesitation to the ramp is not one she recognises. She had expected Loki - recent past history and all that - but the form is undeniably female with that breastplate.

"I had told you such once the truth had been revealed," she speaks to Thor and although Natasha isn't going to relax over that alone it does release some of the tension strumming through her body to see that this woman is known to him.

"My head wanted to believe you even as my heart dare not hope it to be true," Thor replies to the woman, his expression clearly one of adoration. "My friends, may I introduce my Lady Sif, great warrior of Asgard."

"It is my honour to meet the companions that feature so greatly in the tales he has regaled to me with such passion," Sif says as she strides in to the plane's belly with a smile of greeting, her arms stretched wide empty handed in silent acknowledgement of the threat they had all presumed her to be, allowing them the time to make the decision to conceal their weapons once more. Natasha appreciates the move and pushes a smile to cover her face as she nods in greeting and palms the guns to the small of her back. That Sif recognises the door closure panel she activates on her way inside is a puzzle Natasha will be filing away to consider later more fully.

"My Lady Sif would not rest when she heard of the great quest afoot to save our dear friend's beloved from their enemies most terrible clutches!" Thor voice booms out far too loud for the now silent interior with the wind closed once again outside.

"I have much respect of the warrior woman, Agent May," Sif voice is firm, intimidating like the rest of her. Natasha respects a woman that doesn't give. That Sif has met Melinda is another question she's filing away for now. There're better ways to elicit answers than asking blunt questions after all. "And I have told you that they are not beloved. They are warrior companions as you and I used only to be." 

"Indeed as we used to be!" Thor is quick to pick up on with a mock leer that dear god a child could interpret! "We shall find the son of Coul and we shall find the missing piece to his heart though he knows it not."

She's an inkling of an idea that when Coulson asked her specifically for help, he wasn't quite expecting her to bring along the rest of the band. Now the plane's becoming a little crowded.

Not that she'd had a hell of a lot of choice - Steve wasn't being left out of a rescue mission to help... well ANYONE. And if Steve was going then Tony was going because the fucking competitive son of a bitch was not going to back down on anything EVER (Okay, so she can acknowledge at least in the privacy of her own thoughts that maybe that hidden little smushy part of him did care for his friends even if he tried to keep it well hidden). She'd only tried to get a message to Thor to let him know Coulson was alive because damn it he deserved to know! (And maybe a little part of her wanted him to come back because she missed his easy light around the place when all was turning to shit.) There's no way he was going to be left out of a fight. And Sif... she doesn't know much about the woman yet.

Oh Coulson is going to be so surprised when they land. 

She should go find a camera.

 

x

 

**Coulson**

Even though he'd been hoping that they would come and he knew that they had access to a cloaked jet, he was still a little surprised when the plane had touched down with barely a disturbance to its surroundings. Both that they'd come (and maybe he shouldn't have doubted) and because the sight (or not) of a cloaked plane landing still weirded him out notwithstanding the number of times he'd seen it happen. The slight creaking of the pier beneath his feet, a little gust of air sending leaves dancing a pace or two, the light hiss of air escaping a pressured environment as the aft door of cloaked nothingness gave way to a visible open interior, the booming voice of a Norse God - hey what now?!

He's bundled up into huge arms with barely a moment to prepare himself for the bounding sheer energy that is Thor. The fact that his feet leave the floor is a secondary concern to the inability to breath as he's hugged almost to death - that's one way he's never considered going before. Cause of death? Oh, a godly cuddle. Three quick pats to Thor's broad shoulders and he's released to gasp oxygen back in to lungs that he's sure used to work better than this.

"Time to go, Coulson," Clint calls from the plane and he doesn't think the man looked this happily smug since he won that triple bet about hitting the apple atop the Eiffel Tower. It feels so good to be surrounded by people he can trust again, even if most of what he can trust them to do is get him in to trouble with pranking, betting and inappropriate joking around. Especially when it's inappropriate. All the damn time.

His humour level plummets as he confesses, "I don't have a location." Despite calling in hundreds of his markers, somehow the Director has managed to keep her hidden from him. He doesn't think it's deliberately done to pain him or to hurt Melinda. No, he doesn't think the Director is guided by mercenary principles. He sees the man as more of a patriot, a man trying to do what is best for the world, maybe even for Shield. 

In fact, he's been reminding himself of that civilised line of reasoning almost constantly since their last conversation to stop himself from doing something less than civilised in response. The Director is doing what he thinks will help - he's just doing it to help Shield more than to help the individual concerned. Something wrong with a person, lock 'em up, find out what's wrong if you can, but don't move heaven and earth for one individual person no matter that it might be an agent of shield.

No matter that it's May.

No matter that it's _Melinda._

He still can't shake the feeling of a more nefarious purpose to taking May. She's dangerous enough when she isn't abnormally angry and out for blood. She was a weapon already that the Director wanted to control. To keep his eye on, try to figure her out. Pfft, he's had decades and learnt one thing with regard to Melinda May: that woman is simply not one that will ever be figured out by mere mortal men. 

But as a weapon, more than a woman, the Director wants her. That's the reason his gut tells him that the Director has taken her away from them, away from her fami-team, away from their Homebase, away from state of the art medical facilities and the combined brain power of Fitzsimmons to solve the problem and get May well again. The Director doesn't want May cured, not really. He wants to run tests, millions of tests, to figure out what it is, work out if they can use it, weaponize it, control it. Control her. His team would never let the Director get away with running the tests he'd want undertaken. He'd certainly never let it happen. He'd move heaven and earth-

"Oh we know where she is," the drawling voice of Tony Stark comes from the rear of the jet dragging his thoughts and eyes back up in to the real world. Stark too? Not just Team Delta here and covering his back but Thor and Stark too! He distracts himself from the ridiculously overwhelming emotional outburst that wants to take control by straightening out his now wrinkled shirt and faffing with his jacket until he's certain that he's in more control of his expression than grinning like a madman at the lot of them!

"Heimdall has imparted to me that 'your little warrior is upon the Southern most isle founded in ice in the third canyon towards the sun's rotation within a house made of mountain'," Thor's voice he can feel through the ground at his feet as much as his ears. He barely dares to hope -

"Antartica's at least an hour away, Coulson, let's not waste any more time letting May get cold fingers, eh? You know how much she's going to moan at us if she's cold." He finally lets the grin escape him at Natasha's words, let's the idea sink in that they have a location, that they _are_ going to save her.

"Hey, most people don't appreciate the cold, you know?" Steve?! Captain America himself here to help rescue Melinda? He's so... so... honoured? Grateful? He's doesn't even know what to say.

"I'm sure we can knit you a cardigan or something on the way so your delicate little extremities don't fall off," Stark's voice seems to sneer slightly in his response.

"Two hours and you boys are already comparing extremities. Please," Natasha's drawling tone always did make for the best of put downs. Hell, he's missed the whole damn lot of them! "Can we go before they feel the need to whip 'em out and I have to start getting tazer happy to save my eyes?" 

The eight meters to the jet he covers within seconds, Thor's rumbling laugh confirming the god following him across and up the ramp at similar speed. There's not a moment to waste. Melinda needs help.

He won't lose her now.

 

x

 

The sounds of an engine roaring around corner makes him turn back to peer around the closing aft ramp. A crash of protesting metal and the smell of disaster reach his senses but he can't see around the ramp to the cause of the commotion.

"Hey! Wait for me! Damn it!" That disgruntled voice he'd recognise anywhere! Daisy, she came. She - "Stupid piece of shit van! Hey! I'm here! Don't go! Wait for me or I'll - I'll -" The whole plane lurches sideways worryingly but briefly. Then the groaning of metal sounds as the ramp stops moving and reverses course.

The opening reveals a dishevelled young woman he's not seen for past six months, the smoking remains of a clapped out old van wrapped around the metal barrier at the head of the pier behind her.

"Good afternoon," he says with a straight face as she pants wrestling with the last inches she needs to force the ramp to step inside.

"Good afternoon?! Seriously?! That's what you say to me after all of this!?!" He restrains the smirk that wants to appear; she's so much fun to rile up and it's just so easy to do.

"Would you prefer 'welcome aboard'?" her offers with a smile and an outstretched hand to assist her the small step up.

"I'd prefer 'could I get you a drink and here's fifty million dollars'!"

Thor's booming laughter almost drowns out Natasha's "you know, I think I'm gonna like her" but his only thought is how thankful he is that she's here, now. That's she's answered when he's called. She's come when he's needed her.

They all have.

He looks around the packed plane: Natasha and Clint, of course he knew they'd come despite the risk of capture given their present fugitive status. They knew May, trained with her, missioned with her. Friendship formed under fire. Such inexplicable bonds don't just disappear over time and it's hardly the first time Natasha or Clint have been wanted fugitives. Captain America himself and damn if he doesn't just want to take a moment to fangirl about that. Always fighting the good fight. Rescuing the damsel in distress is nothing new to such a hero. Stark... damn self-proclaimed narcissistic son of a bitch isn't going to be able to pretend he's doing this for any other reason than because he cares about his friends this time around. Stark doesn't even know Melinda but here he is to help save her anyway. Thor and - "Lady Sif!"

"Coul-son, I am pleased to find you well."

He needs a moment just to appreciate all of this. To appreciate all of _them_ coming at his request for help. Even Daisy. That means more to him than _anything_. He's almost at the point of having to wipe a hand across his face to hide the sheer emotion - 

*CLICK* 

The momentary blinding light has him blinking rapidly to clear his vision and sorts out the threat of tears that hovered over his eyes nicely. The laughter that surrounds him brings such joy to his heart even as he spots Daisy surreptitiously gesturing at Natasha that she wants copies. He can't help but smile along with them all. They really are here. 

With this team of friends he could conquer the world. He wouldn't want to, and they wouldn't let him, but there's no doubt that they're getting Melinda back now. He smiles for the second time in weeks, maybe in months.

They're going to rescue Melinda.

It's the first time he's really let himself believe that he can.

He's going to rescue Melinda.

 

"Well, Team Delta seems to have grown a little since I last led it... think we should invest in a bigger plane?"

 

 

x

 

There's no plan as such when they reach the hidden base. It's obvious from the first scans of the place that this is not no fortress. It's a simple build, blocky stones rising up into the air from pristine white snow with no attempt to hide. No guards, no roaming scanners, no particular defences of any kind. Thermal imaging, a difficult read when anything indoors appears hot and the contrast is hard to interpret, says fewer than fifty throughout the small base interior. He's the manpower behind him to take out hundreds to reach her if he needed.

The coded panel to the right of the door gives way to Daisy's manipulations - the typing, hacking kind not the vibrating things until they succumb. He catches Natasha's eyes, raises his eyebrows in silent question and gets the single flick of her eyelashes sweeping down confirming that she's impressed. He couldn't hide the pride from his face even if he wanted to do so. 

A happy bleep and they're in. A hiss of cold air rushing in as warm escapes and he's already forging forwards in to that warmth, stripping off the external trappings to more easily move, more easily see, more easily find her. He leads the way, no one else is getting there first, sets their pace at slightly more than a rushed jog and they all fall in to stride behind him. Stark's whining compliments the silent obedience of the others as boots charge down the corridor, backing him every inch of the way. He should never have doubted any of them.

Steve to his left playing wingman and oh how he wants to fangirl squeal at the thought of CAPTAIN AMERICA being HIS back up. Stark's barely the headroom to fly but he's making the point of doing it anyway simply because he can. Only slightly above him, he's here anyway; millionaire narcissist throwing himself in to harm's way out of loyalty to a friend. Nat and Clint, god it's good to see them, troubled pasts and then some shit thrown on top, absolute pariahs to the world and here they are in the spotlight once again, risking capture, imprisonment at best, torture and death at worst. No super powers. No magic suit. Just a helluva lot of training and the will to never back down. They're here for Melinda as much as for him.

And Daisy trotting along beside him not so out of place as anyone would have guessed within this team of superheroes. Daisy's presence means more to him than anything. She's been hiding. From Shield. From him. Probably from herself. That she's come back to them now, when he needs her, that means more to him than any of the others that have crossed countless countries and risked their lives for him. He shouldn't compare. But Daisy coming back to help rescue Melinda will mean more to her than any of the rest of them.

His thoughts are dragged back as Steve runs ahead of them to take out the first agent they encounter, because of course he does - he's Captain America! Only before he closes the short distance the guy is flung backwards into the wall behind him, the clickering whirr then hum sounding the repulsor blast that Stark has used to beat Steve to the punch.

"I had it covered," Steve complains shortly.

"Clearly..." Tony's mocking voice drawls, "...you didn't." There's always been rivalry but there's more than a little bitterness between the two now. He'll have to catch Natasha later and find out the truth of what went on between them behind the official information that was logged and recorded.

"The next assailant you will let fall to my blade," Sif demands loudly in to the echoing corridor.

"No blades," he answers over Stark's "ladies first, of course, how rude of me." These are still Shield agents - probably. They don't deserve the concussions that they're being given for merely following orders, they certainly don't deserve to suffer any more drastic injuries.

Sif does indeed trot ahead to take the lead, Thor right on her heels merrily proclaiming about smiting their enemies 'in a non-permanent manner, of course' and the two take out the next small cluster of agents that they encounter. It's too easy. Far far too easy.

The next group isn't even combat trained. Scientists he presumes from the lab coats and the way they squeak and almost trip over one another in their scrambling attempt to flee. Daisy knocks most of them over as they run down the corridor.

"Anyone else thinking this is too easy?" Clint voices his thought out loud

"Anyone else thinking you shouldn't be complaining about that?" Natasha is quick with the rejoinder.

"Just pointing out the obvious," Clint returns wryly as he pulls his bow taught yet again ready to fire only to release the pressure without loosing the arrow as Steve blocks his line and knocks the guy out. "Let me get one would you?" 

Daisy steps up closer to his side, seemingly a little overawed by the company to join in with the good natured bantering of the rest of the team. "You know we could have done this just the two of us right?" she whispers quietly for his ears only, "we really don't need the all singing and dancing circus following us."

"Little girl, we've been doing these ops since before you were born." He could have told her that whispering wouldn't be quiet enough to miss the honed ears of those around them.

"Way to remind her all how old we are, Barton."

"Some of us feel older than others," Steve grunts slightly as he holds an agent above his head, presumably to make a macho point against Tony, and launches him into a wall. 

"Remind us again how you fought the dinosaurs..." Natasha buts in saucily as she lands an impressive manoeuvre he's no way to describe other than a flippy spinny kick thing that has him holding his breath for a fair few seconds and launches the breath entirely out of her attacker. She catches his grin and returns it before springing up to chase down another agent that is quickly on the run away from them. They don't want an alarm sounding their presence to the whole base - not because they couldn't take them all out - more because he'd rather they hurt fewer people in this little incursion than everyone working here!

It might come to that anyway, he acknowledges ruefully. They've no idea where Melinda is being held, or even if she is still in this facility, so they've to check each and every door methodically. Clint and Natasha take the next doorway - Natasha flinging it open with a suddenness he knows only Clint will have expected, Clint already with an arrow cocked and drawn as he scans the... disappointingly empty room. He and Cap are already passing their door on to the next. To the left Daisy throws a door open with a little too much force, a crash as it hits the wall and rebounds making them all jump as Stark scans the room interior. He pays attention back to his assigned door, nods and raises the ICER to target as Cap pushes open their door for him. Scans left swiftly for movement, right just in case and takes a forward step to cover the room. Empty.

A crash of another Daisy door echoes from the corridor - really need to talk to her about the meaning of covert entry.

He's stunned into silence, two paces in to the next room he checks. That the security has been to keep her in rather than to keep anyone out has been obvious anyway up to now but seeing her lying there... so small... bound down with manacles that could hold an Asgardian clamped around every limb... it's even more obvious that she is considered the threat to this facility. Her escape from the inside is what they've prioritised protecting against. This facility's hidden nature is all that protects from outside incursion. It's insufficient, he reminds himself forcibly. They're here now. They've got her.

She's anything but a threat right now. Bound in place with tubes and wires and monitors and everything hooked in and on and around her still form. She's so pale, so still, that there's a millisecond where he thinks she's dead, they've failed. The regular beating pulse of a heart monitor intrudes upon his thoughts and confirms otherwise. He still can't make his feet take the next step towards her form.

"This is an insult to a great warrior," Sif's furious voice in the background draws his attention to the others that are attempting to crowd into the room around him. Natasha has little patience as she takes his upper arms in small hands and forcibly moves him a step forwards and to one side to let them all inside.

He watches as Natasha swiftly and efficiently strips the cables from her body, withdraws the feeding tube from a reflexively coughing throat. Daisy steps up beside her without hesitation, small hands working gently to withdraw the needles from her arms, her hands. He swallows the sob before it erupts out of his throat. Thor and Sif are past him, pulling with their superior might at manacles he knows won't give way to force along. Steve's there, his shield resounding angrily as he strikes at the metal, repeatedly. Unsuccessfully. Stark's talking. Information and reasoning that flies over his head when all he can see, all he can hear, everything that matters is her. 

He manages to get his feet moving again. One unsteady step after another.

Somehow the combined efforts of vibration, vibranium and godly strength gets her free of everything, he wasn't really paying attention as to how but the important thing is that between them her sore wrists are no longer painfully trapped, her bare feet are dangling freely over the side of the bed. She still hasn't moved of herself. Hasn't awoken.

"A ghost weighs heavily upon her soul," Thor's voice is hushed, worried. His stomach plummets in fear.

"She is strong," Sif refutes immediately - exactly the hopeful reassurance he needs to keep from letting the despair overwhelm him. "We can help her. On Asgard."

"Then let's get her out of here and up there," Clint says as though things are just that simple. He hands his bow across to Natasha, reaches up to loosen the quiver holding his arrows clearly intending to carry her.

Steve catches Clint's arm as he moves, "I've got her." 

He knows rationally that with this many people around to protect them, it doesn't matter who carries Melinda and that it makes sense for those stronger individuals who would be less burdened by her slight weight to carry her... but there is no way he's letting anyone else do it! 

He blinks back awake and pushes through them silently as they bow out of the way.

She's so small. So fragile.

But he's got her.

 

x

 

**Melinda**

She keeps her eyes shut gently closed as she feels herself coming back to consciousness. She's too well trained to just open her eyes or, worse, screw them tight shut and clue anyone watching in to her awakening. She can feel the warmth of sunlight on her skin - not the base then, that's a concern. The smells that assault her senses are wild and unusual. It makes her believe she's outdoors but the lack of any breeze convinces her otherwise - it must be a large room. She can hear the breath of others in the room with her but she isn't bound. She can take them. Whoever they are.

"Mel?" the quiet voice is Coulson's. She's certain enough of that that she opens her eyes without moving immediately to attack the nearest person she sees.

She barely recognises the blurred form flying at her sobbing brokenly as the girl hits her chest, clinging tightly as she cries. She smiles, raising a hand to stroke the back of the girl's head. She's not seen Daisy in far too long.

"Is she trying to strangle you or drown you, I can't tell?" comes Natasha's soothing voice as she nears. It's good to see Natasha too and as she looks around she realises that's not the only familiar face around her in this amazingly high vaulted room, so brilliantly bright and _alien_ seeming.

"I get the feeling I've missed an awful lot of this story," she says to Phil wryly, taking in the sheer state of him and worrying at his tear filled eyes.

"Coulson made us break the rules," Natasha breaks in faux petulantly to try to save the mood.

"Yep, he _made_ us break international treaties, cause numerous diplomatic incidents, AND play nice with Stark," Clint backs her up, like he always does and always will. She grins at the pair of them - she's long past hiding herself from these two and they from her.

"The Son of Coul was most daring in his rescue! A man most worthy of-" she turns to look in surprise at the owner of the booming voice; Thor, of course, cut off mid sentence with a convenient elbow from Lady Sif.

"He was most concerned for your safety and well being," Lady Sif smiles at her and she nods back in rueful acceptance and understanding.

"Hey! We were aaaaalll concerned." That voice is certainly a surprise as none other than Tony Stark pops a grape in to his mouth nonchalantly, "Did I see him standing in that corridor by himself taking out hundreds of shield cronies with auto targeting missiles or-"

"Stark," three voices say shortly in unison.

"What? What did I say-"

She dismisses their bickering from her mind as Phil picks her hand up from the covers in his own, his eyes scanning over her in unconcealed concern, the creases around them making her concerned for him.

"Phil?"

He simply smiles in answer and everything is suddenly right with the world again.

"I may have a few interesting meetings coming up when we go back," he says simply and she knows that is more than an understatement but he doesn't appear particularly bothered by the prospect.

"You broke the rules?" she teases him because when in the entire history of them working together has he ever broken the rules of his own volition before?! They've always been dragging him out in to trouble as he's protested about rules and what's right and what they ought to be doing instead.

"A fair few of them I think," he says with a cheeky grin she hasn't seen on his face in years.

"You hate breaking the rules," she reminds him trying to keep her own grin contained.

He shrugs suddenly serious, leans down close to her ear and whispers, "I'd hate losing you more."

 

He rapid inhale is the only answer he gets from her as Thor's voice shakes the ground (and the bed) and has them both jumping guilty despite doing nothing wrong as he crows far too damn loudly:

"I TOLD YOU SHE WAS HIS BELOVED!"

 

 

x


End file.
